The Love of a Marble Sun
by MaymayC
Summary: The world works in mysterious ways, especially to bring together Gabrielle and Enjolras
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

February 28th, 1832

"Please?" Éponine begged her sister. "Just one meeting! I told Marius I would introduce you to him, and I can't let him down! And Grantaire wants to meet you too!"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Just because you're infatuated with Marius Pontmercy does not mean I have to follow him around like a puppy with you." She crossed her arms. "Besides, I need to check on Gavroche."

Éponine's eyes lit up. "Gavroche is coming to this meeting too! And you couldn't possibly keep him away." Gabrielle sighed in defeat. There were few people on this planet who could control Gavroche to any extent.

Gabrielle tugged her poor excuse for a dress into a more comfortable position on her starved frame. "Who else will be at this meeting, besides your beloved Marius?"

"Grantaire, Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Jehan, Joly, and Bossuet. And Enjolras, of course."

Gabrielle gave another long-suffering sigh, but smiled at her little sister. "Very well, mon petit oiseau. Introduce me to these friends of yours." The smile on 'Ponine's face was bright enough to light up the evening sky.

Enjolras was late. He had hurried through the crowded Paris streets as quickly as possible, but the poor were getting more and more restless, blocking up the alleyways and streets with marches of protest. Enjolras supported these marches on the whole, but he generally disliked being made to be late. Especially when he had repeatedly hounded his friends on multiple occasions for the same misdeed with long speeches about the evils of missing important revolution ideas; speeches that would now, upon his arrival, probably be thrown back at him. And there was nothing the Enjolras hated more than that- except, perhaps, civil injustice.

He at last arrived at the Cafe Musain and bolted up the stairs as fast as he could. In his hurry, he failed to notice two mademoisellesstanding on the landing- apparently unsure of whether or not to join the group of young revolutionaries- and ran straight into them. His head connected sharply with someone else's, and they both hissed in shock and pain. He staggered back, clutching at his forehead for a moment before composing himself.

When he finally looked up to see who it was he had run into, he was not surprised to see one of the girls- the one who was always following around that ridiculous-excuse-for-a-revolutionary Pontmercy. Enjolras could never remember her name, so in his head he simply referred to her as 'Marius's Shadow'. The other one however, was unfamiliar to him. This was the one with whom he had obviously smacked heads, as she was rubbing hers vigorously.

"I am so sorry, ladies. Mademoiselle, is your head alright?" he allowed a small amount of concern to show on his face.

"Yes, I am fine, no thanks to you, monsieur." The girl scowled in his direction.

The Shadow gasped. "_Gabrielle_!" she squeaked. "Be polite to Enjolras!"

"Not after THAT greeting." Gabrielle said. "Now are we going to go to this silly meeting or what?"

"I quite agree, though not about the description of my meeting." Enjolras said. "After you ladies." he said, and motioned up the stairs. Gabrielle blinked her grey-green eyes at this unusual show of chivalry.

"And here I thought there were no more knights in shining armor left in Paris." she said, winking at Enjolras who had begun to feel a slight blush creeping up his neck. He tried desperately to control it. _I must be getting ill,_ he thought. Yes, that was probably it. After all, between classes and his revolution, there was no time left in Enjolras' schedule for girls, no matter how witty they were.

The three walked into the noisy cafe, full of young men who were all drinking and talking over each other. A tall, bespectacled young man with sandy hair hurried over to them, frowning. "Enjolras! Where have you been?"

"Sorry." Enjolras said. "I got stuck trying to wade through one of the marches."

The other man pulled out two sheets of paper covered in big looping penmanship. "I have a few ideas I wanted to run by y-" he stopped midsentence, distracted by Gabrielle who was trying to see the papers from over his shoulder. "Enjolras, who is your friend?"

Enjolras gritted his teeth. He was about to correct Combeferre, but Gabrielle got to it first. "Oh we aren't friends. We just smacked heads on the landing. He still has the bruise." Combeferre looked at Enjolras in amusement, the latter of which sent menacing glares to the other. "My name is Gabrielle. I'm Gavroche and Éponine's older sister." she added.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Gabrielle. My name is Combeferre." he leaned down to take her hand and kiss it, making her blush. Something unfamiliar and nameless twisted into a knot in Enjolras' stomach. _Well now I know the Shadow's name_, he thought. _Éponine isn't nearly as pretty a name as Gabrielle._

Enjolras tuned back into the conversation in time to hear 'Ferre saying, "It's always nice to meet a lady friend of Enjolras."

Courfeyrac, who was passing the small group of three (Éponine had left earlier in search of Marius) at that moment, stopped in surprise. "Enjolras has a lady friend?" he said.

Enjolras raked a hand through his curls. "No! For the last time, she is NOT my friend!" Gabrielle merely watched, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Oh, well in that case," Courfeyrac said, turning to her. "My name is Courfeyrac. Allow me to show you around and introduce you to my friends." he put his hand on the small of her back, steering her into the rest of the room. The knot in Enjolras' stomach got tighter.

"Why thank you, monsieur." she exclaimed. Before she disappeared into the crowd though, she turned over her shoulder to smile at Enjolras and wink

Combeferre watched it all with a small smile on his face. "How long have you known this woman?" he asked.

"Five minutes." Enjolras practically growled and Combeferre let out a small chuckle as his best friend stalked away.

Gabrielle yawned. This meeting was boring her. Most of the boys were just drinking and talking about things that had happened earlier this week that she had missed, or about their love lives. She thought this was to plan a revolution. Not that everyone she had met tonight wasn't a perfectly kind gentleman. They were all very nice. Except for that Enjolras fellow- he seemed rather irritable. However, his temperament obviously didn't impair his looks. He was easily the most beautiful man in the building, not that he seemed to care. His halo of golden curls put her in mind of the sun, and his voice made her heart flutter. But enough about him- where could she find some intelligent conversation?

She leaned over to Courfeyrac, who was sitting a few chairs away, and asked him, "Where is the planning for the actual revolution going on?"

"I'm sorry mademoiselle. Are we boring you?" he asked, not unkindly. Gabrielle shrugged, not wanting to be rude. He laughed and pointed to a table in the corner where three other young men were talking heatedly over a map and various other papers. She nodded her thanks and made her way over.

As Gabrielle drew closer to the table she could see that the three young men were Combeferre, Enjolras, and another man who had been introduced to her as Feuilly. "...Already contacted a man who would supply us with arms." Enjolras was saying. She approached silently, so as not to interrupt, and pinched one of the many sheets of paper lying on the table. For a moment she struggled, trying to adapt to the cramped penmanship that covered the page, but once her eyes had adjusted she devoured the information quickly, and reached for another as she took a seat.

"...And of course, our group will man the barricade outside of this building." Enjolras finished. "Feuilly, can you write a note for the other groups telling where they should set up their own bar-"

"Why am I supposed to rise up?"

All three of them turned to see Gabrielle sitting in one of the chairs at their table. She was frowning at part of one of Enjolras' speeches. His brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Well," she said. "This part says that in order to live a productive life unaltered by the need for crime, the poor of our Patria should rise up against the unjust government that rules them. I am poor, so please explain, why should I join your cause?" She waited.

Once he had gotten over the surprise of hearing her evaluating his work (and the fact that she could _read_), Enjolras replied with the obvious answer. "Because the poor live in horrible conditions, so they should fight for a better chance at a good life."

Gabrielle leaned forward eagerly with an intense look on her face. "That means nothing to me. I can fend for myself perfectly fine. As for the government, I doubt most of the people on the street even know who Louis Philippe is. And anyways, the poor are doing quite well on their own. Have you not seen the protest marches?"

Enjolras leaned forward too. "But that is what we are trying to do! We hold rallies on the street, educating people on how their government is neglecting them and their rights. And while the protests are a good start, they don't attract enough attention. This revolution will simultaneously attract more attention, and lead to the abdication of the king. Here," he shuffled through some papers looking for a certain one.

While he was doing this, Gabrielle continued to argue her point. "That is all very well and good, but why, even after all that, why would the people listen to you? You're just some bourgeoisboy trying to get attention. We have to work to survive, something that you wouldn't understand. Why risk our lives in some silly uprising that is bound to fail? So that our families may starve to death a little sooner?"

Enjolras finally found the paper he was looking for. He pulled his chair around the table so that they could both look at it. "Look, at this part right here. Don't you see that..."

Combeferre and Feuilly watched in amazement as the two proceeded to debate the one point for two hours. No one had ever engaged Enjolras so deeply in argument, especially not a female. In fact, the only reason they stopped was because the cafe was closing. When the two looked up to see that the gas lamps were all burning low, Gabrielle had excused herself and left, but not before promising to come to the next meeting so that they could finish their discussion. Enjolras' eyes followed her down the rickety staircase with an odd look on his face.

"Are you all right Enjolras? You look a bit funny..." Feuilly noted.

"Yes, you appear to be smiling." Combeferre said with a certain amount of smugness in his voice.

"Wha- er um, n-no I'm not." Enjolras said, clearing his throat and readjusting his face so that he most certainly wasn't smiling. Combeferre merely smiled and started humming a song about wedding bells and love in the springtime. Enjolras scowled.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

March 12th, 1832

Gabrielle was now a constant addition to the meetings of Les Amis de l'Abc. While formally, there were no women allowed, Enjolras turned a blind eye to her because his friends all enjoyed having her there. And, if he had to admit it, he did like debating with her. It was exhilarating, having someone new to talk with. Combeferre was a good debate partner, but by now Enjolras knew him so well, he might as well have had an argument with himself. Gabrielle was his equal in her passion for what she believed in, and balanced out his rich boy ideals with her street smarts.

On this particular evening, she had abandoned their usual nightly debate to talk to Grantaire. Enjolras was slightly disappointed but he continued to plan out various strategies for different scenarios on the barricade.

He was interrupted from his deep thoughts by the feeling of someone's gaze on him. He looked up and ice blue eyes met grey-green. Gabrielle. She held his gaze for a moment, a small smile curling at the corner of her mouth and her hand furiously moving on paper. He felt his own lips forming a smile too. When she caught sight of this, her smile grew and she broke their connection. _What was she writing on that paper?_ Enjolras watched as she stood up and gave Grantaire a kiss on the cheek before weaving her way through the crowded tables to him.

Gabrielle had been sitting with Grantaire, talking about art and drawing. Grantaire had been explaining to her how he had drawn every one of his friends except Enjolras. He said he felt he could never get Enjolras right. _Something about the face_, he had said. _Too many hidden emotions. Our Marble Man isn't as marble as we want to believe._

_Let me try_, she had suggested. He had handed over a blank sheet of paper and a charcoal he had been using a bit. He laughed a little, saying she would never do it.

She had gone at it, trying to portray him in his element- working on his precious revolution. She drew him from the waist up, focusing mostly on the face. She had almost got it right but something was wrong. She studied the paper for awhile. It was the eyes- they were missing something.

When she looked back up he was staring at her. Excitedly, she let her hand work furiously on his eyes. Finally, she had finished and looked down to inspect her drawing. Grantaire's head popped up behind her shoulder, and then he took the paper with disbelief.

He swore under his breath. _Well it appears you have done the impossible, mademoiselle. Although I must say, I have never seen such a look on his face. _

_ Thank you Grantaire. _She said and stood to make her way over to the subject of her art. Before she left though, she kissed Grantaire on the cheek.

_I can still out drink you, you know! _he called after her.

_You can try! _she laughed.

Now Gabrielle was standing in front of him. He stood up, towering over her a good four or five inches. "A gift for you, monsieur," she said, holding out a sheet of paper.

"Is this what you were writing with Grantaire?" he asked.

"Not writing, drawing. I'll leave the words to you, if you don't mind." Gabrielle passed him the drawing. As she did so, their hands brushed against each other. Enjolras froze, but Gabrielle merely paused and considered her options, before squeezing his hand once and slipping away. He stared after her in wonder. Finally he looked at the sketch.

The artist obviously thought that the man she was drawing was beautiful. For it was the image of a man, with curls shining under the gas lights around him, papers crumpled all around him. He was turned towards the artist, and had a small smile on his face. His eyes were the most captivating part though. They were full of emotion- loyalty, passion, determinedness, and...love.

"What are you looking at?" Combeferre's voice startled him.

"Nothing." he said, folding the paper in half hurriedly and stuffing it into the pocket inside his jacket. For some reason, he didn't want to share this picture with anyone quite yet.

"Okay, well I had some strategies I wanted to share with you." Combeferre looked up, his glasses sliding even further down his nose.

"But..." Enjolras searched wildly for Gabrielle, but couldn't see her anywhere in the room. Finally he gave up and went with his friend. _Get her out of your head Enjolras. She's just some silly girl. _

Two hours later Enjolras could feel a headache coming on. For once, he was tired of thinking. He sat back and ran his fingers through his curls. A long nap sounded like a good idea right now- or at least a break from work. He stood up and went in search of a cup of coffee. As he stood in front of the bar sipping from a cup, Enjolras caught sight of Éponine playing a game of checkers with Gavroche. He wandered over and reached them just as Gavroche got one of his checkers kinged. Éponine groaned good-naturedly.

Enjolras tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up and was rather surprised to see him standing there. "Yes?" she said.

"Do you know where your sister is?" he asked. Éponine shrugged.

"You could try outside." He nodded his thanks.

Following Éponine's advice, he trudged down the stairs and into the street. The night air was brisk but refreshing and reinvigorated Enjolras on his search. He saw no one on the street, save a few urchins who kept their distance. After walking for a few blocks with no success, Enjolras was about to give up when he heard voices nearby.

It was a man and a woman, arguing by the sound of it, and not politely. It was ugly, with swearing from both parties and insults that probably had nothing to do with the actually fight. Enjolras knew he should leave, that it was most likely just another unhappy couple from the streets and none of his business, but something in the woman's voice made him stay. It was familiar.

The man's voice grew louder and angrier, if that were possible, and a pleading tone appeared in the woman's. "Do not come back without money and expect food! I don't provide for whores who don't work!" the man shouted.

"I am not a whore!" the woman shouted back. There was the sound of someone being hit and the sharp intake of breath. It was then that Enjolras realized why the woman sounded familiar. _It was Gabrielle_.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" more hitting noises. "And don't deny it. Remember- I know your father, I know how he works." There was the unmistakable noise of a scuffle and the man said, "Struggling only makes it worse, you know."

After another minute of painful sounds Gabrielle cried out, "Please 'Parnesse! Stop! Please stop! I'll go down to the best street tonight and do a few jobs, I promise!" The man grunted in assent and heavy, slouching footsteps slunk out of hearing range. Enjolras took this as his cue to leave but horror and fury glued him to the spot.

Finally his brain worked enough to walk again, but he had gone no more than a few steps when a soft voice said, "Enjolras?"

He turned and saw her standing there meekly, a stance he had never seen her take on. It didn't suit her, being weak.

"How much did you hear?" she whispered.

"Enough." he said quietly.

"Ah." she said, and looked away, blinking back tears. "Well then I guess I'll see you around monsieur, though probably not at the cafe. You wouldn't want my kind hanging about there." She turned to leave. Enjolras walked forward quickly.

"Elle, wait." He grabbed her forearm, making Gabrielle hiss and flinch in pain. "You're hurt." he said and looked closer. Her arms were covered in bruises and small cuts, and her lip was split. "Come here, let me help." She hesitated but accepted the handkerchief he gave her and pressed it to the cut in her lip.

Enjolras watched sadly, wishing he could do more to help. "Does this happen often?" he asked worriedly. Her silence spoke volumes. "Oh Elle." he sighed. She sniffed but otherwise made no sound.

"Tell me a funny story." Gabrielle commanded finally. So he recounted the time an uncle of his had fallen into a soup tureen at a funeral reception and how hard his eight year old self had laughed. He left out the part where his younger self had received a slap for laughing at a funeral and having no respect for the dead.

She hummed in amusement and rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment or two of quiet he asked, "Who was the man in the drawing you gave me?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "Why, couldn't you tell Enjolras? It was you." That shocked him into a good thirty more seconds of silence.

"Elle?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won't go back to him."

"Hmmm," was her only reply.

"No Elle, you have to promise me." He held her out and forced her to look at him. Blue eyes searched green. "_Promise_."

"He's not so bad." Gabrielle whispered. "And besides, where will I stay if not with him?"

"With me and Combeferre." Gabrielle snorted. "No, I mean it. Combeferre won't mind, he likes you. And I wouldn't be able to live with myself, knowing that he might be hurting you."

Gabrielle scowled. "I can fend for myself Enjolras. It isn't that bad."

Enjolras' tone sharpened. "Gabrielle-"

She cut him off. "Elle. I like it when you call me that, Elle."

Enjolras' face went soft again. _How did she do this to him?_ "Elle." he said softly.

Without warning, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. "Thank you." she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, bewildered.

"For caring." And it was those two words that made him tighten his arms around her in return, knowing she needed more people who cared in her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

April 11th, 1832

Gabrielle refused to move in with him. Enjolras was very against the idea of her living on the streets again, but she had argued that she couldn't leave her siblings, that it would raise questions, and that she didn't need his charity. Enjolras had told her that it wasn't charity, that he was just looking out for a friend, but she had waved him away and told him to get on with his silly revolution.

That was another thing. Gabrielle never wasted a chance to tell him that his revolution was a waste or silly or doomed to fail. But Enjolras had noticed her giving him subtle tips for rallying support or where to go for cheap medical supplies. It was a small gesture but he was touched. Maybe she wasn't as against the revolution as she claimed.

And then there was the small matter of their growing friendship. After the incident almost a month ago, the two had become nearly inseparable at meetings. He called her Elle and she called him Felix when she was mad at him. Enjolras secretly loved it when she called him that. She was the only one who knew his first name and the only one who could make him smile. (Gabrielle and Enjolras didn't know it, but most of the Amis had a bet going on how long it would be until they got together; Courfeyrac had already lost.)

But their friendship did not lessen the fiery tendencies of their temperaments. The littlest phrase could set off an explosive argument, like a spark on gunpowder. Nobody dared come between them during these fights, for fear of losing their head. They usually just went at it until they got tired of fighting or one of them stormed out.

That day was unusually hot for April, and the heat set everyone on edge. The air was so thick you could practically swim through it and Gabrielle was not in the mood to listen to Enjolras ramble on and on about his Project. She still came though, because she knew he would worry if she didn't. Gabrielle was afraid that if he worried anymore, his head would explode.

She wan't not sure what started it, probably just a sarcastic comment from her or an offhand remark on his part, but in less than thirty seconds she and Enjolras were at each other's throats. Enjolras was actually kind of scared because he'd never seen her like this before- screaming and mad enough to spit, mad enough to throw one of Grantaire's empty bottles at his head. He ducked away from it just in time. Oh he was scared, but he didn't show it- instead he fought back harder.

This argument raged for the better part of an hour, with everyone watching in fear or anticipation. Now the fight has strayed away from the initial topic, now it was personal. Every pent up feeling, good or bad, was coming out, dropping from their lips like stones into a pond, making the air between them crackle with tension.

"It's this damn revolution!" Gabrielle yelled. "It's all you ever think about! Why can't you ever just talk to me Enjolras? In the two months I've known you, we have barely talked about anything beyond the basics- and not even that!"

"Two months is not that long!" Enjolras protested.

"No, it's not. It isn't long at all, but you know what? It was long enough! Long enough to realize that you are a stubborn - foolish - self-centered - pig!" She punctuated each adjective with a sharp push. "Oh yes you're all of those things, but stubborn the most. Stubborn, and angry, and rude, a-and- and, handsome and kind and gentle...and confusing!" By then, Gabrielle had started to cry mostly silent tears. Enjolras stopped yelling long ago and reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. The entire cafe was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

"Elle.." he said firmly. "Oh, Elle..." She jerked out of his grip.

"You're so confusing! So mysterious and strange and new and wonderful, that I can't help but be drawn to you! And two months may not be a long time Enjolras, but it was plenty of time for me to fall in love with you." Her words hung in the air. Their eyes met. Green on blue. For a moment she felt like she could finally see all of his emotions. For a moment he felt like he could see into her soul.

And then the moment disappeared, and Gabrielle ran down the staircase so fast it rattled. Enjolras was left standing in the middle of the room, completely alone and totally shocked. _I blinked and she was gone,_ he thought. He turned to his friends, who, for the most part, were sitting or standing silently, just as surprised as him.

"Well what are you still standing there for?" Jehan said finally. "Go after her!" Enjolras blinked as though the idea never occurred to him. Then he did just that.

He pushed his way through the crowds of Paris' more dangerous streets. "Gabrielle!" he bellowed. "GABRIELLE!" But not one head turned his way. He waited too long.

_It's all right_, he told himself. _You'll see her tomorrow. Tomorrow you can tell her. _ Enjolras leaned against a nearby wall to catch his breath, and finally allowed himself to smile. _She loves me._

It had been five days since Gabrielle had come to a meeting. On the first day, Enjolras wasn't worried; she needed her space and he respected that. On the second day he was a little concerned but not too badly. On the third day he was properly worried, but his friends assured him that all would be well. On the fourth day, all of Les Amis were uneasy and discussing places she could be. By the fifth day, Enjolras was nearly out of his mind with distress. He couldn't concentrate on anything, and Joly asked him multiple times if he had any symptoms of cholera because his complexion was so grey.

He sat at the table, not paying attention to the discussion, thinking about Elle. About her long, ash-blonde hair that curled into loose ringlets at the end. About the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, as though she got flecks of tan paint of them and never bothered to wash it off. About her big grey-green eyes, and how they were filled with tears that last time he saw her. About how Montparnasse hurt her. This last thought made him clench his hands into fists. _Think nice things Enjolras, _he told himself. So he thought about her laugh, and her wit, and intelligence, and strength. _Oh Elle,_ he sighed in his head._ Where are you?_

"Enjolras!" He looked up to see his friends observing him with concerned looks on their faces. "All you alright Enjolras?" Combeferre asked.

Enjolras gave a curt nod. "I'm going out. I need some air." he muttered, and hurried out towards the inviting glow of the late evening.

Gabrielle wandered down to the crowds of the evening market, where the last errands of the day were being run, and the first cons of the night were beginning. She had already had one customer, but he didn't pay her well. She hoped to avoid meeting up with someone from her father's gang until later, especially 'Parnasse. He would not be as forgiving as he had been last time she came back with barely any money, and the memory made her shiver, despite the heat of the setting sun.

Alas, Lady Luck was not Gabrielle's friend today, for a hand shot out from an alleyway she was passing, and pulled her into the shadows. She could smell the alcohol on his breath before she could see him, and Elle knew that this time, she wouldn't be getting away. There was no one here to save her and in that moment, she realized that she should have gone back to the cafe. If she had gone back, she wouldn't be here, in this dark alley, about to receive a beating from the most ruthless assassin in Paris, who also happened to be drunk. _I am a fool, _she thought.

"Well now, my sweet- what have you got for me today?" Montparnasse slurred in her ear. His grip on her wrist was vice-like, and she twisted around to try and alleviate the discomfort.

"I just started working 'Parnasse. Let me go." she said, trying to keep her voice calm. Her captor let out a bone-chilling laugh.

"But I haven't seen you in two days, my love," he whispered. "Surely you have your payments from yesterday."

"I-I was doing a job for my father yesterday." she tried to make the lie come out smoothly but she stuttered and with that, Gabrielle knew that her last chance of escape just blew away with the breeze.

Montparnasse shook his head slowly. "Now, Gabrielle, lying is a sin."

"When has that ever bothered you?" she retorted.

"You're right, it doesn't." An evil smile spread over his face. His eyes took on a distant look, almost like he was recalling past lies that worked well. The tight hold on her wrist slackened, and Gabrielle seized the opportunity, making a mad dash for the streets. Her sudden movement dispelled 'Parnasse's revere and he rab after her, grabbing her around the waist. "Sneaky." he whispered in her ear. "Your father would be proud."

The streets were still full, but Gabrielle knew that he was too intoxicated to notice or care. "I'll scream," she said, in a last effort. He just laughed and threw her up against the wall- hard. She lost her breath with a rush of air, but used the motion to scream. Heads turned, but no one interfered. _Just another street rat. We could use less of those. _She could practically see their thoughts.

Enjolras was wandering down the street when he heard the scream. A woman next to him shook her head. "Montparnasse is at it again. I wonder at how the poor girl has lasted this long." She clucked her tongue and then went back to rearranging her market stall. Enjolras stareed in disbelief at this woman, who knew what was happening but made no move to help. Another screech that got cut short made him follow the sound.

A ring of people appeared where they stepped away from the scene to watch. Enjolras pushed through just in time to see Elle get her head slammed against the wall. "NO!" he shouted, and flinched at the sound her skull made when it hit the ground. He rushed forward to cradle her head, begging her to wake up. _Joly. I'll take her to his apartment. He'll know what to do. _With this plan in mind, Enjolras picked Elle up slowly and carefully. When he looked up, he saw Montparnasse stumbling away in a drunken stupor, and the crowd of people staring at him.

"Shame on you all," he said angrily before pushing them aside.

Enjolras hurried through the streets, hoping he doesn't hurt Elle anymore than she already was. His brain was running at a thousand miles a minute, distracting him so much that he didn't remember that Joly was at the Cafe Musain until he made it almost halfway to Joly's apartment. Enjolras cursed under his breath and took a short cut back the way he came.

Enjolras wasn't quite sure what his friends were expecting when they heard his footsteps on the stairs, but it certainly was not what they saw a few seconds later. "Clear off the table and someone go and get help." Enjolras commanded as his friends gaped at the sight of him holding an unconscious Gabrielle in his arms. "Now!" His shout snapped them out of their daze and the Amis scrambled to do as he said. Éponine, who as standing nearby, hadn't seen what had happened yet.

"Let me through! I want to he-" her offer for help was cut short when she saw what happened. "No." she whispered. "She can't be..."

"Gabrielle is not dead yet, and she will not die if I can help it." Enjolras reassured her. Éponine nodded curtly and Enjolras knew it must have been hard for her. She was terrified and it showed on her face, but she was determined to stay strong in front of the boys. Enjolras was impressed; he wasn't nearly as brave.

Joly checked Gabrielle's pulse once she was lying on the table. His face was deadly serious, showing his concentration. After a minute, his face relaxed as he informed them, "She's alive. Her pulse is strong." The group let out a collective breath, and Enjolras nearly fell over in relief. As it was, he had to steady himself on Éponine's shoulder, squeezing it so tightly that she gave him an odd look.

"What happened?" Grantaire asked, and Enjolras quickly told them what he saw.

Joly nodded grimly. "We need to wake her up. It's dangerous for her to sleep after receiving such a blow to the head." He fetched a glass of water and quickly dumped it over the head of the unconscious girl. Her eyes fluttered open a bit and she mumbled something incoherent. "Gabrielle? It's Joly. You hit your head very hard and I need to see if you're alright. Can you move your hands and feet for me?" Gabrielle appeared confused but did as she was told. "Good. Now I need to open your eyes and look at them. Courfeyrac, get me a candle." Once the candle was in his hands, Joly stretched one of Gabrielle's eyes open and pointed the light directly in it. She shrieked and punched him in the chest, hard enough to make him stumble into his friends and loose his breath. "Mild head trauma," he wheezed. "She'll be fine."

Éponine shrugged Enjolras off of her and went to her sister's side. "Elle, it's me. How are you?"

Gabrielle smiled slightly. "Ah, you know me 'Ponine. Nothing can keep me down. I'll be back on my feet in no time. Where's Gav?"

"With his band of merry thieves. Oh Elle, I thought you were dead! Don't scare me like that again!" Éponine exclaimed.

"You worry too much Little Bird," Gabrielle said as she sat up. "I'm fine." Before she could say more though, she leaned over the side of the table and threw up what little food is in her stomach onto Bousset's new shoes.

Enjolras came up behind Éponine. "You'll stay with me until you are better," he told her with an air of finality.

"Like hell I will," she growled. "I said I'm fine." The ferocity of her statement was somewhat offset though, by the way the blood rushed away from her face when she hopped off the table onto her own feet. Elle swayed, but was caught before she could fall by Enjolras' hand on her back.

"Come what may, and hell to pay." He said it with his most irritating smirk on his face.


End file.
